Mirage
by of-convoluted-disillusion
Summary: It's not something he likes to think about, or mull over, or really even dwell on at all. But sometimes, Dean fancies that he can see Castiel's wings, twitching and rustling behind him like a separate consciousness. Dean/Cas one-shot.


**Well, I finally got around to finishing one of my Supernatural fanfictions. *yay!***

**Hope y'all like it! Please review- I'm really enjoying this style of writing but I'm not 100% if it's working.**

**(also this is un-beta'd so any mistakes are mine)**

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**Title → **Mirage

(Mirage- imagining; a vision or illusion)

**Author → **Kaiya

**Fandom → **Supernatural

**Characters → **Dean Winchester; Castiel; Sam Winchester; Kevin Tran

**Pairings → **Dean Winchester/Castiel

**Rating → **T (for language)

**Summary → **_It's not something he likes to think about, or mull over, or really even dwell on at all. But sometimes, Dean fancies that he can see Castiel's wings, twitching and rustling behind him like a separate consciousness. Dean/Cas one-shot._

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It's not something Dean likes to think about, or mull over, or really even dwell on at all. Most of the time he'd rather be opening another beer or chatting about something or other that isn't really relevant to anything or putting on one of his albums and playing 'let's see how loudly I can sing before Sam gets pissed at me' purely for the sake of watching his little brother cycle through all of his bitchfaces. But sometimes- and it's been happening more and more often since they called endgame to the whole 'family business' thing and hung up the gig- Dean fancies that he can see Castiel's wings, twitching and rustling behind him like a separate consciousness.

The first clearly defined memory Dean has of it happening is that moment right before the Apocalypse started when the angel had turned to Chuck and declared that they were 'making it up as we go'. Dean had made to shoot Cas an appreciative glance, but done a double take because for a fleeting moment, there had been a barely distinguishable outline of two large shapes folding and unfolding from the back of the long trenchcoat. It had just been for a second- less, even- and when he'd attempted to blink them into focus they'd disappeared.

Before that, Dean thinks he may have been noticing them subconsciously since that brief moment between consciousness and oblivion when Alastair was standing over his broken body and Castiel had swept in, all fire and heavenly wrath, and Dean hadn't been awake long enough to really be aware of more than the overpowering agony stemming from the feeling of a room overflowed by the grace of a furious angel. But he's pretty sure that since then at least some miniscule part of him has been more tuned in to Cas.

Since that moment when Cas broke away from heaven for the sake of humanity (for _Dean_, he had said furiously; 'I did it, all of it, for _you_') it's been something that Dean's come to accept as part of his life; yet somehow it always catches him off guard. At first it seemed sporadic; like there was no distinct reason for the random shadows that fluttered behind the angel. But after a while Dean had begun to notice a pattern- emotion. Most of the time Cas shows no outward signs of emotion. Dean spent a lot of time thinking the angel was just a soulless, cold statue, back when they didn't know each other too well. But now, eight years and countless shared battles later, Dean realises. For whatever reason, Cas' emotions don't quite shine through right via Jimmy Novak's face. Probably for the same weird angelic reason that Cas can stand impossibly still for so long that his unwavering focus becomes creepy and Dean ends up making some snide remark about Edward Cullen that makes the angel tilt his head like a curious puppy.

Castiel's wings are a stark contrast to his vessel. Where Jimmy's stolen body remains stock still for hours- could probably do so for days, or weeks, or hell, even years if Cas was so inclined, his wings are constantly shifting; folding and unfolding, flitting and rearranging themselves as though possessed. Dean's worked out that this, _this _is where Cas lets the emotions bleed through. He can tell by this point because as he's started seeing them more and more, he's started to make connections; when Cas is happy (or at least content, since it's only going on a year since the three of them settled and that's not _nearly _enough time for them to be properly happy, after everything they've lost) the great, charcoal feathers flutter around, almost in the same way Sammy twitches and jitters when he's had one too many cups of coffee. It's endearing, in a way (though Dean would rather French kiss a banshee than admit that), to see it. It becomes a little less difficult to admit after Dean starts catching sight of other angel's wings as well on the rare occasion Cas gets visits from heaven. The other angels' wings are even harder to make out, but when Dean catches a glimpse out of the corner of his eye they're always at least settled comfortably on the angels' backs.

The first time he sees this, he steals a glance at Cas and yep, his wings are definitely _not _settled. They aren't leaping about like the angel's in a good mood, either. In fact, if Dean didn't know better he'd say Cas' feathers were ruffled up, making his wings look bigger the same way cats do with their tails when they're pissed or (and Dean can't quite suppress a smirk at the thought) territorial. He's suddenly struck by the mental image of Cas pushing another angel up against the wall and growling, "these are _my _humans. Get your own."

This isn't quite as funny when the other angel (who has been propositioning Cas to come on a mission for heaven) starts to get pissy with Cas for refusing.

"You freelance for heaven, I know you do," the angel insists.

Cas had rolled his eyes. "Yes," he agrees. "When I see the cause as fit."

"And, would you say that protecting your friends is a fit cause?" the angel questions him with a smirk that is nothing short of unsettling.

That has Castiel lifting an eyebrow. "Did you just _threaten _the Winchesters?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees Sam burying his face in his hands. _Not again_.

(Honestly, if he wasn't too enraptured by the way Cas' wings were now fully stretched out and ruffled, he'd be doing it too.)

The other angel seems to realise her mistake and takes a step back. Her wings briefly flit into Dean's focus. _Curled, submissive. _Cas steps with her, maintaining his own threat.

"I just…" the angel shrugs, trying to pull off nonchalance. "I thought maybe-"

"_Leave_," Castiel growls. "_Now_."

She doesn't need to be told twice. She's gone before Dean has the chance to blink.

Later, once Sam has locked himself in his room for the next restless night (even now, when it's been years since they last faced an apocalyptic phenomena, they're plagued with nightmares of death and devastation, and even of years trapped in the burning pit), Dean and Cas decide to go for a walk. Dean switches off Sam's phone before they leave; his little brother never sleeps well around this time of May and he needs the rest. He switches off his own phone as well and leaves it on the table- if anyone needs the hunter helpline in the next few hours they can call Garth. Kevin's going to be pissed, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him, right?

Out in the warm spring air, Dean nudges Cas teasingly.

"Gettin' awfully overprotective back there, big guy," he mocks. Cas, having long since grown less uncomfortable around Dean, smirks and bats the former hunter lightly on the arm as they walk.

"I didn't like the way she was looking at you guys."

_Especially at you_, he doesn't add. He doesn't have to. Even though Sam and Cas have grown surprisingly close over the years (_probably bonding over their nerd hyperactivity, _Dean reasons) and there is nothing- _nothing_- that will ever come close to meaning as much to Dean as Sammy does, his bond with Cas is unique.

_Profound bond_, he remembers, and chuckles fondly.

"What?" Cas asks, tilting his head in the curious way he has done since the night they met.

"Ah, nothing," Dean sighs, wrapping an arm around Castiel's shoulders. "Just…don't you ever change."

Cas leans into the touch a little. "Why would I change?" he asks. "You seem to like me well enough the way I am." Dean feels something brush against his shoulder with a suspiciously feather-light touch. He glances down and yep, there's a brief flickering moment where he can see the feathers twitching and shuffling there. One look at Cas tells him that the angel knows he knows- and hasn't it just always been that way between them? Personal space is overrated anyway.

For a moment, Dean suddenly wonders when he because so relaxed about Cas touching him. He thinks maybe it's been a gradual thing; like he just got used to it and then started to expect it, and now it's just something that happens. Especially with those glossy black wings that never stop moving.

They walk for over an hour before they stop and just take a moment to bask in each other's company. There had been a time, years ago, when Dean would have balked at the idea of standing alone with an angel- in a _male _vessel nonetheless- and just staring at said angel, feeling completely comfortable with the fact that Cas' face can't be more than a few inches away from his. But now he doesn't complain; in fact, there's something about this that feels undeniably _right_. He glances back and catches another flash of feathers- _fluttering,_ _nervous_, he thinks, before they suddenly settle back to their regular shuffling (_content?_) and Dean does the only logical think he can think of, leaning forwards and closing the years of space that have been between them.

When their lips finally brush together for the first time it's as natural as if they'd been doing it for all these years. In a way, they have been; dancing to this song since the moment Cas laid his hand on Dean's soul in hell. When Dean pulls back, Cas is smiling- honest-to-god smiling with his teeth showing and his eyes shining and fuck, his wings are right there in the open, clear as day and absolutely corporeal. Dean reaches out in wonder and Cas brings one of them around to meet his outstretched hand. When Dean brushes his fingers along the strong curve, Cas closes his eyes and takes a sharp breath. Encouraged, Dean moves down to bury his fingers in the long, sleek feathers, running his hand through them softly, never taking his eyes off the angel's face. Cas' long eyelashes are fanned down over his almost closed eyes, his lips slightly parted and turned up at one corner. Dean tightens his grip in the base of Castiel's feathers and uses the leverage to pull Cas closer and kiss him again. The lightest pressure against his back and the sudden warmth that spreads through him like fire tells him that Cas has wrapped his other wing around him. Dean sighs and relaxes into the embrace for a moment before he realises that he's standing out in the open, at night, wrapped around an angel, and that makes him feel a little self-conscious.

Okay, actually it makes him feel a _lot _self-conscious. He pulls back gently, not taking his hands out of the soft feathers at the base of Castiel's wings.

"Home?" he suggests.

Cas' face doesn't change, but he brushes against Dean's cheek gently with the tip of a long feather, before he stretches both of his wings out and suddenly they're back outside the bunker. When they get inside, Dean turns on his phone. _One missed call from Kevin Tran_. Great. Before he can turn it back off, Kevin calls him again.

"What the _hell_, Dean?" the kid exclaims as soon as he answers.

(It doesn't matter that Kevin's a fully-fledged, lethal hunter now. He'll always be a kid to the Winchesters.)

Dean rolls his eyes dramatically; the corner of Cas' mouth turns up slightly and he bats Dean lightly with the tip of a wing.

"What's up, Prophet-boy?" Dean asks cheerfully. He can fucking _hear _Kevin's scowl. Kid hates that name.

"What's _up_?" Kevin snarls. "_What's up_ is that you and Sam promised to help us coordinate this vamp hunt and then stopped answering your phones!"

Dean laughs. "Well, sorry kiddo. I guess Sammy slept through the phone ringing. You know how he is around his birthday."

Kevin sighs. "I know," he says. "I didn't expect him to answer, not really. But _you-_"

"I'm busy," Dean says immediately. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Busy?" Kevin sounds confused. "With what? It's like quarter to one in the morning."

Dean scrubs a hand over his eyes, giving in. He sighs.

"Well," he says, in a slow, overdramatic way.

"_Dean_," Kevin snaps. "Spit it out, I've got a lot to do."

"Pushy, _jeeze_," Dean chuckles. Kevin practically growls.

"Sorry," Dean says, still chuckling. "Well, I uh…" he casts around for an excuse, and catches sight of Cas. He's gonna have to tell Kevin sometime anyway, since the kid is so perceptive that he'll figure it out in a glance anyway. Deciding there's no time like the present, he grins brightly at his angel and speaks again.

"I'm not _entirely _sure where things are going, but I _think _that I'm about to have hot angel-sex with my best friend."

There's a clatter, and Kevin is silent for several moments. Dean suspects he dropped the phone.

"What?" Kevin asks finally.

"You heard me."

(Dean can picture Kevin's uncertain nod.)

"Right…" Kevin is silent for another moment. "Finally," he mutters as an afterthought.

"What?" It's Dean's turn to be confused.

"Nothing," Kevin says immediately, sounding like he's supressing laughter.

Dean grumbles. "Why couldn't you have gone back to school, you little shit?"

Kevin chuckles. "I'll call you tomorrow morning, and you had _better answer your goddam phone, _you bastard."

"Scouts honour," Dean replies, laughing at the mental image of how much Kevin is probably rolling his eyes.

"Fuck off," is the prophet-slash-hunter's only reply before the line goes dead.

Closing the phone, Dean looks over at Cas, who for _fuck's sake _is actually _preening_; using one wing to comb the feathers Dean had messed up in the other. It's amusing to see the angel going to any pains about his appearance, especially when Dean is the only one who will be seeing his wings tonight and it's not like _he _has any intention of keeping them well-groomed. Meeting the angel's eyes, Dean realises Cas is _showing off_, so he rolls his eyes and takes a step towards him.

There's probably a lot of things they need to talk about, like what they'll say to Sam tomorrow morning- he'll probably be thrilled but Dean is _definitely _not looking forward to the conversation- and hell, what they're gonna tell anyone else. But neither of them feel much like talking, so instead Dean shoots Cas wink that's _brimming_ with innuendo and marvels again at the way the soft feathers flitter and twitch beneath his fingertips as he pulls him in for another kiss.

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**So, there we have it. Please review :)**

**~ Kaiya ~**

**(p.s. Flames killed Mary and Jess. Don't let them hurt anyone else!)**


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